


gray skies aren't so bad

by doremifasorashige



Series: Quick Prompts [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 19:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6437698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doremifasorashige/pseuds/doremifasorashige
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chanyeol doesn't like walking through cemeteries, passing by the plots of the deceased, knowing full well that he should have been in the ground with them a long time ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gray skies aren't so bad

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the tumblr prompt "Imagine your OTP going for the first time to the grave of their dead child together.” Just a small thing I started while doing laundry this morning.
> 
> Unbeta'd

The day is overcast with a slight chill, perfect for their day's activities if blockbusters and hollywood hits were to be believed. Every movie with a scene like this had a dark and somber theme to it. And really, who is Chanyeol to argue with the masses? It's not as if he hasn't see the trends come and go, some rise to the top and stay there. He knows what the people want, and the people want gloom for moments like this, so it's really only fitting.

In reality, Chanyeol doesn't even want to be here though. He has no desire to go grave visiting today, or any day to be honest. Let the record state that this was not his idea, it was Jongin's, like everything else. Chanyeol has a hard time saying no to people, it's a weakness.

"Looks like rain," Chanyeol comments, hands casually placed into the pockets of his overcoat, a warm woolen thing that Jongin got him years ago. It's one of the few possessions that Chanyeol doesn't think he'd ever be able to part with. It's disgusting how sentimental he's become over the years.

Jongin merely grunts, pulling the collar of his own coat up to starve off the chill. Chanyeol can see the way his eyes peek up at the sky, watching it precariously as if daring it to open up right then and there. "We shouldn't have come here," he says instead of commenting on the weather as well. "This was a bad idea."

It's hard for him to resist the urge to remind Jongin that this was his idea, it's always his idea. Having a child together, getting a dog, settling down in one place, dating--okay, that one was Chanyeol, but the rest of them were all Jongin.

He realizes, that maybe his weakness isn't the inability to say no, but the inability to say no to _Jongin_. One would think that he would've figured this out a long time ago but his life has just been nothing but Jongin for so long he sometimes forgets what he was like before.

The word lonely comes to mind though.

Chanyeol curls his hands into fists, keeping them locked inside his pockets knowing from Jongin's body language that he doesn't want to be touched at the very moment. "You'll feel better after we say hi, I know you will."

Jongin grunts again, but doesn't argue as he steps out from the overhang and onto the bath that leads to a family plot.

The walk is long and silent as they make their way down to the plot. Chanyeol's not a big fan of cemeteries, or funerals, the remind him painfully of his own endless existence. Legally, Park Chanyeol has been dead for a few hundred years. Every time he thinks about it he stomach lurches violently, uneasy with with the reminder as his skin begins to crawl. Jongin has always seemed more accepting of it, embracing their life to the best of his ability and ignore the rest of it. There are parts of it that he knows bother Jongin but they've talked about it extensively numerous times and Jongin is placated by the fact that being with Chanyeol is worth the small inconveniences.

He gets all tingly just thinking about it. Chanyeol has been domesticated and it's horrible. He hates how he loves every second of it.

This, though, Chanyeol isn't sure where this is going to lead them. Having a child was always different for him than it was for Jongin. He thinks it has to do with the fact that when they met, Jongin was still young himself, still accustomed to having a family while Chanyeol had been on his own for far longer than he cares to think about by that point. He has seen all of the people he loves die time and time again, he has watched the world revolve and change and less than half of that time he has spent with Jongin.

That's another reason why he doesn't like coming to these places, it reminds him of the gap between his age, his real age, and Jongin's. It reminds him of how if not for this unfortunate state of living, he would have never met Jongin and they wouldn't be here together right now, and Jongin would be dead. But then again, maybe he would have had what he wanted, a proper family, a life. It's a conflicting set of emotions.

The plot, when they come up to it, looks the same as it had twenty years ago when it was brand new. Both their family names are placed on it at the very top in elegant bold letters, and under it resides their child's name.

Chanyeol doesn't remember how he felt when he first paid for the plot, when he was here the first and last time, watching from a distance as their child--by then grown with family of their own--was lowered into the ground. He feels so many things all the time because of Jongin that it's hard to remember something from twenty years ago, but right now he feels this sudden sense of loss and hopelessness.

Beside him, Jongin remains silent, face streaked with tears as he stares at the plot and it breaks Chanyeol's heart to see. There isn't much he regrets, but agreeing to come here might soon be added to the list.

"C'mere," he says, shocked to find his own voice rough with emotion but he ignores it in favor of reaching out and tugging gently on Jongin's arm, pulling him close to wrap his arms around him. "It's okay to be upset," he mumbles against Jongin's hair, pressing his face close as if he could protect him from the world when he knows he really can't. "She knows we loved her." It's hard for Chanyeol to speak about their daughter, the words getting caught in his throat, "and understands why we can't visit that often."

Jongin doesn't say anything but lets out a shaky breath against Chanyeol's neck, pressing his face in as much as possible as he wraps his arms around Chanyeol's frame, holding him like a vice. "We should've brought flowers," he manages to say eventually.

Chanyeol hums in agreement. "We can come back tomorrow, if you'd like." Chanyeol would like to do anything but return here so soon but for Jongin he would do it. He would do anything that was in his power, and try anything that wasn't.

He shakes his head, "No, I don't think I could do this again. Not now." Chanyeol squeezes him just a little bit tighter, showing his understanding.

They stay there like that, just the two of them wrapped up in each other. Chanyeol's eyes wander to the family plot tracing over the letters as they rock each other gently. _Beloved daughter, wife, and mother_ he sees in a smaller print. Sometimes Chanyeol forgets that they're grandparents. Most times really. It's easy to put the thought out of his mind when he never sees his supposed lineage and still looks like he's twenty-five.

"Can I help you?" A voice calls out, making them both startle and pull apart. Jongin keeps his face tilted towards the ground and rubs his hands over it, embarrassed by his emotions.

"No," Chanyeol answers for them and turns to find the source of it, coming to see a face that looks very much like their daughter's and he didn't realize how much it hurt to not have her anymore until that very moment. "We were just visiting." He's not sure how to explain themselves to this young girl, their granddaughter, when he doesn't know if she's been told about them and their "condition".

The girl comes to stand next to them and looks down at the plot as well. "You're pretty young to have known my mom," she says mildly.

Chanyeol rubs at the back of his neck and tries to figure out how to explain that one. Family friends seems too vague, but anything else is seemingly impossible. They two of them have no family, and Chanyeol is sure that the only other family that their daughter acquired was from her husband's side.

"She told me about you," the girl says after the silence passes on for too long. "It used to be a story when I was little, about two people who met many many years ago and said they would love each other till the end of time, literally. They had a child, adopted for they could not conceive one of their own, and raised it together in a small house for many years but as their child grew older they stayed the same and eventually they had to part." The girl pauses in her story--their story and turns to look at both Chanyeol and Jongin. "She showed me pictures of you as well, from when she was a kid. You really don't change."

That startles a laugh out of Chanyeol. "Not on the outside anyway," he feels compelled to say. "I've recently come to realize that I've grown soft in my old age."

The girl smirks a little at that but doesn't further comment.

Time passes at a steady pace as the three of them gaze upon the grave. Chanyeol feels like he can breathe easier now and Jongin is no longer a line of tension and sadness next to him, but more like a muted sense of joy. Happiness at the result of all their choices that lead them up to this moment in time, standing in a cemetery as they stare at the grave of their daughter having meet their granddaughter for the first time. It's nice, in a warped way.

When they've all seemed to have their fill of somber moods their granddaughter turns to them again. "I assume I won't see you two again."

Chanyeol smiles ruefully. "Probably not. We only stopped because we were passing through town. Hard to stay in one place when you don't age."

She nods as if it's the most reasonable thing she's ever heard in her life. "It'd be weird to call you grandpa anyway."

Jongin snorts out a laugh at Chanyeol's disgruntled expression. "He acts like one sometimes. _I remember when..._ "

"I have never once started a sentence with 'I remember when,' Jongin, don't put words into my mouth." He rolls his eyes but his heart swells with the sight of Jongin's grin. He's such a sap.

Jongin pats him consoling on the shoulder. "I think your memory is going in your old age."

Their granddaughter giggles at that and she looks so much like their daughter in that very moment that it pulls at Chanyeol's heartstrings and the smile trying to force itself onto his face fades away. "You look just like her," he mumbles and itches to reach out and touch her, to hug her close and never let go, to pet her hair when she's upset, and to tell her how much he loves her.

She smiles sadly at Chanyeol and takes a step closer, allowing Chanyeol to give into his urge to reach out and touch. He caresses her cheek, and it's soft against the palm of his hand, nearly almost covered entirely by it which would be comical if not for the way he feels overcome with emotions. "I know we don't have any right to be here, or to say it because we barely know you but I'm proud of you." He feels Jongin's fingers wrap around his own and squeeze tightly.

"Thank you," she says softly.

It's then that Chanyeol feels as if he's about to cry and he knows that it's time to go.

He lets his hand fall back to his side and looks away taking a very strategic sniff of the air around him. A few more seconds pass by without any of them saying anything so he takes it upon himself to act first. Glancing once more at their granddaughter, he smiles and turns to leave, tugging Jongin along with him.

Once they make it a few paces away he hears, "Don't think you're not allowed to visit. I think she'd like it if you stopped by once in awhile. I wouldn't mind either."

Chanyeol doesn't turn around or say anything and neither does Jongin, but the hold each other's hand a little bit tighter and Chanyeol can't help but think that maybe it wouldn't hurt to visit more regularly. Maybe.


End file.
